Adam's Rib
by tielan
Summary: She was already broken when they found her. John angst.


**NOTES**: For **starry_haze **in the **sga_santa** 2009 challenge. I actually wrote a fic for everyone in that Santa challenge who requested John/Teyla, even if I wasn't assigned to them. The story wasn't always John/Teyla either, but it was my gift, if you will, to the John/Teyla creative forces who were willing to step outside of pairing-specific fandom.

**Adam's Rib**

_god made eve from adam's rib_

She was already broken when they broke into the room.

John remembers her tears - silvery trails that gleamed down her cheeks - just as he remembers the horror on Rodney's face and the snap of Ronon's weapon setting being changed from 'stun' to 'kill. He doesn't think he'll ever forget the scream she gave as her shoulder dislocated while they unhooked her, or the organic click the joint makes as it's snapped back into place on the gritty, grey floor.

"Ribs," she says through bloody teeth. "And thigh."

They have to swap the plan around - Rodney stands guard at the door with a gun, while Ronon and John put her back together - as much as they can. Splints and bandages, swabs, jabs, and anaesthetic, and the sickly pale undertones of her skin beneath the stark downlights, like a horror movie for real.

_not from his skull to rule over him_

Ronon doesn't argue when John tells him to take point, tells Rodney to cover their six. The marines are on standby; John gives them the co-ordinates and tells them to come in hot and hard and shoot anything that moved that isn't his team.

He carries Teyla; her head pillowed on his shoulder, her teeth gritted against the pain, her body bound as hard as they dare.

It's a long, hard journey back to the pick-up point, but they're not going to leave her behind and she's not going to let them treat her like china.

"Just go," she says after an injudicious movement wrings a choked grunt from her. Her eyes close and her jaw sets as John rises to his feet, but she doesn't make a sound. They've drugged her as much as they can without sending her comatose, but short of anaesthetising her below the neck, they can't do it all.

_nor from his feet to be trampled by him_

It hurts to hold her; aches in his arms, aches in his belly, aches beneath his breastbone. John can barely think for the pain.

He holds onto her as they make their way through the complex, using Lorne's sketchy diagram and their own instincts to guide them out. Several times, he has to shift her in his arms, and feels her tense. God knows what the movement is doing to her body, but it's get Teyla out in pain or put her out of pain permanently.

Mercy is not an option. They both know that.

Dust and dirt and rocks settle around the hole Sergeant Teldy blew in the compound wall, and John clambers unsteadily over them to the open 'jumper bay, nearly twisting his foot on a rock. Then she's on the floor of the cargo bay as Ronon and Rodney shoot at their pursuers with deadly accuracy and equally deadly intent, and the 'jumper's leaping for sky as the hatch door closes up behind them.

He settles her on the floor, cradling her head as her eyes open, flame and fire and pain and hope.

"Home?"

"Yeah," he says.

_but a rib from his side to walk beside him,_

They shower and shave and clean themselves up while she's in surgery. Keller told them to get out of her infirmary and not to come back until they were clean, and the hot water is a relief to the body, if not a balm to the spirit.

And even when he gets out, Kanaan's waiting for him with Torran in his arms.

John almost turns back; but if she were here, Teyla would look at him with disappointed eyes.

"Thank you, Colonel."

_I didn't do it for you._ But he won't say that out loud. He can't. "You're welcome. Any news?"

Torran fondles the velveteen giraffe someone bequeathed to him in a pile of used toys and onesies and teethers, and then leans over his father's arm to offer it as though sensing John needs something to hug. John accepts the gift and brushes one hand over the curve of Torran's head.

"Not yet. But she is strong."

That's no comfort to John. He's seen strong men shatter under pressure and pain before. For a while, he thought he might be one of them. Teyla's strong, yeah, but is she strong enough to get through this?

Are any of them?

_under his arm for protection,_

John takes himself out of the infirmary because he can't stand the waiting.

Kanaan stays with Torran cradled in his arms, and Ronon shifts as John stands and walks away, but he doesn't move.

It's bloodless to be doing paperwork while a team-mate lies on the operating table, but it suits John's state of mind. He works his way doggedly through reports, the words that slide beneath his gaze without meaning or significance. Mission reports, personnel reports, words, words, words and damned statistics..

He's not sure when he looks up to find Rodney standing in the doorway with Torran in his arms. He can't tell what the news is going to be from Rodney's drawn expression.

Rodney swallows and it takes two tries to get his throat working. "Jennifer says she'll make it."

John only nods. But something in him loosens in silent relief as he reaches for Teyla's son.

_and close to his heart to be loved._

John goes to see her when Kanaan is putting Torran down to sleep, while Rodney is burying himself in his work, after Ronon unfolds himself from the chair and goes to run out his relief.

Infirmary machines beep their periodic reassurance as he sits down and puts his head in his hands. A long breath shudders through him, exhaustion and weariness expressing themselves the only way he's allowed.

He lets his gaze linger, wondering at the fragility of the human body; wondering at the strength of the human spirit.

There'll be gossip again. It's not the first time he's risked too much for Teyla; it probably won't be the last. Sure, he's risked things for Rodney and Ronon before - for Elizabeth and Carson and Aiden - but this is considered different.

His subconscious recalls a dream of wine and candlelight and knows it's different.

But Teyla's loyalties are shared between her family and her team. John knows better than to ask her to choose.

His own choice was made a long time ago.

- **fin** -


End file.
